Take It Easy (Love Nothing) Pt. 2

I moved to Detroit and everything got crazy. Right away I started working in a popular bar. Drinks were often free if not dirt-cheap, I had plenty of (what seemed like) disposable income, and little responsibility. Many nights, I would punch out at 3am, then sit at the bar with other employees, drinking until four or five or sometimes as late as seven a.m. It was too easy. I had nothing else to do. Or, at least I didn't think so.

About three years went by, I finally finished college, got an office job, and made an attempt at settling down on the partying. It was easy to look at it and realize that most of the time I drank, I got absolutely nothing out of it. Boredom or stress were the typical catalysts. But as easy as it was to look at it like that, it was much more difficult to truly grasp it.

True, I have some crazy stories to go with my drunken exploits. Nothing too out there, I guess. It's not like I have "A Million Little Pieces, the sequel" resting somewhere up in my brain. Actually, I have something much like what James Frey had: other people's stories about drinking and drugs and the fucked up things they've done. I have a lot of these stories, in fact I was witness to many of them. But most aren't depressing in a sense of desperation or hopelessness, the depression comes from realizing this is all these people have. That's not me.

The office job started to whip me into shape in terms of not getting drunk every night, but I was still going out and drinking most nights. Not getting drunk, just a bit of a buzz. Then there's DJing five times a month, random house parties, nights out on the town, that stuff's a lot worse. I still wouldn't get obliterated or anything like that, I have too many control issues to let that happen. But it was useless.

So, here I am, twenty years after the first time I drank alcohol and I've made a decision. I'm not drinking. When I tell people, they ask "is this a permanent thing, or are you just cutting back...?" My intent is for it to have weight, and permanence. I'd like to just cut back, but that isn't how I roll. I'm an all or nothing kinda guy.

A couple weekends ago, I went to Las Vegas because two friends were getting married. I got on the plane three days after I quit drinking. I didn't mean to time it that way, it just happened. A last minute decision that gave me the opportunity to jump in the fire with this. I felt like crap when we got off the plane. Three and a half hours is a long time to be on a small plane sitting next to a guy whose arms are longer than my legs. We got the rental car, got to the hotel, and while Mike was checking in, Janna and I decided to go get a drink.

It was her suggestion, and I decided that I'll have just one. I figured it would be really expensive, and that would make me not want anymore for the next three days. I ordered a shot of Knob Creek (small-batch bourbon) on the rocks. Almost anywhere else, this would cost at least $6 or $7, but it was only $5 at the lounge by the stage at the Golden Nugget. Because I hadn't eaten in hours, I figured that I would get a decent buzz from the one shot on an empty stomach. NOT the case, unfortunately. In fact, about halfway through it, I realized that I didn't want it and saw no point in drinking the rest of the weekend.

That's right, kids: I was in Las Vegas for a wedding and I was there for three days and only had one drink! Believe it, I have witnesses.

So, this experiment is real. Real life. There's nothing temporary about it, I am on the wagon. No, I won't get preachy about it, and if I do, smack me. This ain't about you, it's about me.